Pears and Perils (7 page)

Kaia nodded respectfully. “Of course. I’ve got a vehicle arranged to take us to the Rilletien Hills.”

As they piled into the tour bus, emptied of its usual passenger load for today’s private chartering, there was much mumbling and discussion of the day’s plans. In all the discussion, however, not one person inquired as to why Lawrence had opted not to join them. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but rather that they believed some magical spell had been woven over them in the gift of his absence and that speaking his name aloud would shred it like a broom through a cobweb. Names are powerful things, and no one was particularly anxious to invoke Lawrence’s presence by using his.

Dr. Kaia Hale was the last passenger in the line, and she was surprised to see the King of Kenowai hop onto the steps alongside her. She stared down at the cat with the curious tail.

“Are you certain? We won’t be back for some hours.”

Sprinkles bounded ahead of her, past the bus driver (who was about to object to an animal on his vessel until he saw the tip of gold and bowed his head) and down to an empty seat where he hopped up and stared out the window. It didn’t matter how long the ride would take; this was interesting now. Besides, his island was not a tremendous one. He could make it anywhere in half a day’s journey, so if he grew bored, he would amble through his kingdom.

“So be it,” Kaia said more to herself than to anyone else. The King had no need of her permission, and no one else would have really understood what she was talking about. The doors sealed shut behind her as the driver ground the bus’s ancient gears and set off down the road.

* * *

Lawrence was, it turned out, neither sick nor tired. He had merely done his job well enough that his presence was no longer required. Oh, he’d have to lord over the Goodwins in the editing room, that much was certain, and getting everyone back safe and sound would fall on his shoulders as well, but for today, the dominos were all set in motion and it was time to relax. A good fixer did not create work where there was none and he did not ignore rest time when it was presented.

So Lawrence, intimidating psychological figure that he was, took the day to use the resort’s impressive spa facilities. He was massaged, mud-wrapped, steamed, saunaed, and just generally basted with comfort. It was a good chance to get back to zero and let his tension melt away. He was certain the world would seek to refill his cup of stress immediately, but that was okay. That was what the world did, and Lawrence would pour out that stress with skill and vigor, because that was what Lawrence did. Oh sure, occasionally an errant thought would slip through his mind about the chance of something going wrong, but he quickly soothed such insecurities away. Everything had been taken care of; not even Thunder could mess it up. Today, he relaxed. Tomorrow, he resumed his usual cynical outlook.

* * *

The trip out to Rilletien Hills had proven to be more time-consuming than expected. It wasn’t the getting there that was hard: it was the stone selection process.

The contest winners had immediately disembarked from the bus and begun scouring the area for an acceptable stone while the video crew captured their movements. Kaia was the judge since she was the expert, taking each one and turning it over in her hands, running her fingers delicately along the surface, and ultimately dropping it to her feet when it failed to meet muster. At first they respected her dedication to the importance of selecting an offering worthy of her god, but as the sun grew hotter and the pile of rocks at her feet grew larger, even Falcon began to wonder if she was getting paid per rejection. At last she declared one of Clint’s stones, a smaller one that he had found when the cat knocked it down the hill at him, to be adequate, and they were shuffled back into the somewhat-less stifling heat of the bus.

Nature’s Pool of Tears was much prettier, a natural inlet surrounded by white sands and lush trees. Kaia told them that during the right season the entire cove would fill with light during a sunset, like it was hoarding it there in case the sun decided not to rise the next day. Of course, at this location, the process was as simple as taking a water bottle from Kaia and filling it up. They didn’t even have a chance to swim. It was a little depressing until Thunder reminded them that they had two days left after this, which left plenty of time to come back.

They re-herded onto the bus and departed, though the next drive took some time. Kodiwandae’s first tree sat in the center of the island, away from the scenic shores and other areas easily coupled with tourism. The road that took them to it was made of dirt and curves, weaving through trees as it ascended a hill. The driver was constantly mashing the bus’s poor gears in an effort to make sure they sacrificed not even a small scrap of momentum. Kaia had discovered in her studies that most cultures required time spent in solemn prayer before any ceremonies of great importance could take place. She often wondered if this road was the gods’ way of ensuring that anyone who tried to make the offering engaged in the prerequisite of prayer even without supervision. If so, she had to admit it was an effective strategy.

At last the road leveled off and they broke into a relatively small clearing. It was surrounded by various flora on all sides, but clear in the center except for a massive pear tree jutting from the ground. Though it was gnarled and old, countless Kenowai Pears hung from its branches, each seeming more ripe and luscious than the last.

There was oohing and aahing at its majesty until the Goodwins swooped in and began ordering everyone into positions. The driver was forced, despite ample protest, to move his bus back down the road a bit so it wouldn’t accidentally end up in any shots. Thunder was physically dragged away from the others and Kaia stood directly behind Justin as he set up his camera so as not to get in the way.

“Wait, we’ve got the cat in the shot,” Dustin called from a few feet away. “Somebody toss him out.”

Kaia felt her blood race at such disrespect. As her face flushed, she turned on her heel, ready to deliver a violent tongue-lashing at the rude camera man. Luckily for most involved, Clint beat her to the punch.

“The cat’s been in every other shot so far. Why not just leave it be?”

Dustin looked over at his brother. “Is that true? I don’t remember seeing it in any.”

“No, bro, Clint is smash on the money. It was jumping wimbly-style on the rocks and was dropping a paw in the water trying to get some fish when we filled the bottle,” Thunder answered.

Justin shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention to the local animals; I thought it would all blend in to the background.”

“Damn it. Fine; leave the cat in, but somebody hold him so he doesn’t go scampering around and ruin the shot.”

Clint reached down and picked up the King of Kenowai before anyone, especially the King, had a chance to object. “Sorry, little guy, I know cats aren’t big on being held but it will make everything run smoother.”

“So, we’ve got all the stuff, what do we do now?” April asked, holding up the bottle and rock she’d been tasked with carrying.

“When the Goodwins tell you to start, you will go to the small altar set up in front of the tree. Pour the water into the depression on the top then drop in the stone. After that, you pluck a pear from the tree and set it on the stone. The density of the objects works in such a way that the pear should balance perfectly, the water holding it in place. When all that is done, you tell the goddess that the offering is assembled and you wished to be judged for the right of freeing Kodiwandae,” Kaia explained.

“Sounds simple enough,” April mumbled under her breath. Falcon was staring wide-eyed at the natural beauty surrounding them and Clint was holding the cat, so it fell to her to do the manual work.

“We’re good here,” Justin called out.

“Ditto. You can begin whenever you’re ready,” Dustin agreed.

“Totes rocking over here,” Thunder added.

Kaia watched from her place on the sidelines as the dark-skinned girl began setting up the offering just as instructed. She had an impressive eye for detail, this one; many of the worshippers Kaia had overseen were quick with it, wanting to be done and on to the next part. Not this girl; she was meticulous, pouring the water like it was going into her thirsty lover’s mouth and setting the stone in the exact center so as to make the balancing possible. She showed equal care in selection of the pear, touching many, thumping a few, and then finally plucking one nearly on the opposite side of the tree. She placed it down gently, and just as promised, it didn’t so much as wobble.

“I guess we’re ready,” April said, motioning the others closer. Falcon, Clint, and Sprinkles all joined her in surrounding the altar.

“May I?” Falcon asked respectfully.

“Fine with me,” Clint said.

“At least you believe in this stuff,” April agreed.

“Many thanks to you both.” Falcon turned her attention to the pear and the tree then lifted her eyes to the heavens. “Oh Mighty Goddess from whom all earth springs. We mortals beg you hear our prayers and observe this offering to you. We have come humbly to beseech you to free the trapped god, Kodiwandae, so that he might return to his island and the worshippers who need him.”

“Are you getting any feedback?” Justin whispered over the two-way headsets he and Dustin wore when shooting.

“Yeah, a bit of a weird high-pitched tremble. I’m trying to compensate for it,” Dustin replied.

Kaia heard something, too: a soft crackle that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Also, she couldn’t be a hundred percent certain, but she was pretty sure the sky had been clear a minute ago, not thick with grey puffy clouds as it was now.

“Though we know we are but mere humans, we ask this of you, Great Goddess. To show you respect, we have done as you asked and brought offerings of stone, sea, and fruit. Please, Goddess, if any of those assembled be worthy, we humbly beg you to free Kodiwandae.”

“Cut!” Dustin yelled standing from his camera. He had to yell because the wind, which had been gentle and tropical moments before, was howling around them and whipping through the tree’s branches. “We’ve got to try again; the feedback on these things is getting unworkable.”

The crackle was audible now, not just a soft background noise but a piercing note that penetrated even the wind. As Kaia watched, she could swear she saw occasional golden bolts flashing between the limbs of the tree. Somewhere, somewhere deep down under all her essays and studies and term papers, somewhere that Kaia hadn’t trusted since she was little girl, a creeping sensation of what was occurring began to gnaw at her.

Falcon paid Dustin no mind, continuing to yell up at the sky to be heard over the wind. “Great Goddess, we beseech you on bended knee, please deem one of us worthy. Please set this god free!”

“Guys… I don’t think we’re going to be doing this again,” Thunder said, his usual flippant tones absent as he stared as the now-undeniable arcs of golden energy leaping from branch to branch. The thrum grew higher and a new sound filled the air, this one like a bubble of grease bursting over a hot griddle.

“Shit!” Justin leapt aside as a shower of sparks spewed forth from his very, very expensive camera. Dustin’s followed suit less than ten seconds later, and both brothers sat helpless on the ground as the tools they built their career on fizzled and popped their way into the scrap heap.

“You!” Dustin said, finding his anger and jabbing it, along with his finger, at Kaia. “What the hell is all this? Did you set up some special effects to try and make it more dramatic?”

“It’s… impossible,” Kaia said, looking for anything from her formerly rock-solid world of facts to cling onto. After much grasping, she succeeded in closing around something. “It’s impossible! It must be some freak storm. It can’t be the god. Kodiwandae can only be released in the presence of someone with the blood of a god!”

It’s funny the way wind works: had Kaia found her fact and voiced it any sooner, the wind would have blown it to the east, away from the ears of those at the altar and leaving us with a very different story. The breeze that grabbed Kaia’s words was a northward one, though, and it brought her whole statement to the ears of three nervous humans and one mildly-interested cat.

Cats have not developed the ability to accurately convey a sense of panic, predominantly because such a sensation goes counter to their nature. As it is, their faces are really only suited for expressing displeasure and disdain. Sprinkles was not an ordinary cat, though, and had anyone been paying attention to him instead of the sky, they would have seen a very pronounced “Oh Shit” look on his furry face as he realized what was happening.

“Hey, calm down,” Clint said as the cat began struggling to get free of his arms. The golden lightning was arcing closer to the center of the tree now, the trunk beginning to glow with a steadily brightening light. Cats are already experts in freeing themselves, and ones with a bit of divine blood move into the realm of supernatural. For an instant Clint felt like he was trying to keep his grip on a shadow dunked in mercury; then it was over and the cat was racing across the field away from him.

Clint turned to yell after him, and that’s why he didn’t see the burst of light like everyone else. It ripped from the tree, coursed through the pear, and struck Clint in the dead center of his back, hurling him through the air until he landed several feet away.

Clint’s head swirled, his brain trying to make sense of what had just happened. He’d almost puzzled it out when a voice rang through his skull, different from any of the ones he’d heard that day. It sounded young, yet authoritative. Clint couldn’t understand the words it spoke, not really, but the sentiment attached was as clear as if it had come from the recesses of Clint’s own mind.

Fuck it feels good to be out of there!

Clint, with little pomp or to-do, bid the waking world adieu and passed right the hell out.

9.

Though Clint’s attitude of avoiding desire was sprung largely from his observations of his family, there was a catalyst in the form of an event that brought it all together for him. It was an experience he endeavored to forget, though it lived on at the back of his mind and often resurfaced during precarious moments to shape his decisions.